


This is the Start of Something Great

by ivelostallcontrolofmylife



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Adopted Children, Adoption, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Everyone is mentioned, Family, Family Bonding, Family Dynamics, Family Fluff, Fluff, Future Fic, Gen, Kid Fic, M/M, Married Life, Near Future, Victuri, gratuitous fluff, im sure, some characters featured more than others, tags will be updated as this progresses, the slightest of angst, things have to go wrong sometimes, viktuuri
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-01
Updated: 2017-05-10
Packaged: 2018-09-21 08:18:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9539456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivelostallcontrolofmylife/pseuds/ivelostallcontrolofmylife
Summary: Four years after the events of the first season, a happily-married Viktor and Yuuri make a very important decision. A story that follows the life of the Katsuki-Nikiforovs as they become a family and all the love, fluff, and drama that families entail.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So basically this story has been living in my head for MONTHS and I decided to get off my butt and write it! (Mostly thanks to ravenhunterfell on tumblr who kicked me into gear - thank you!).
> 
> Originally this was going to be a sequel to something that would be set immediately after the GPF, when Yuuri moves to Saint Petersburg. I tried to write it, but it wasn't resonating as much as this one was, so I've swapped them around and may end up writing that one later. 
> 
> I hope you love this as much as I do!

Viktor sighed and leaned against the rink wall, chin propped up in one hand. With a soft smile, he looked out across the ice at the collection of children calling out excitedly and clamouring for attention from the man they were surrounding. Russian and English intermixed, a mess of words and universal laughter echoing across the rink.  
  
“Yuuri-sensei, Yuuri-sensei!”  
  
“Me first!”  
  
“No, me first!”  
  
“Yuuri-sensei!”  
  
Yuuri laughed. “One at a time. If you all line up, you’ll be able to skate towards me and I can lift you up.”  
  
Immediately the sizable mix of young boys and girls began to scramble to form a ragged line. Yuuri skated gracefully towards the middle of the rink. He caught Viktor’s eye as he resettled his glasses on his nose. He smiled at him, a small and slightly embarrassed smile that melted Viktor’s heart. Then he turned, stopped, and gestured to the little dark-haired girl who’d managed to work her way to the front of the line.   
  
“Alright, when you’re ready!” Yuuri called.  
  
The girl clenched her jaw and pushed off the ice. Her skating was wobbly, her whole body tense, but she made it to the middle of the rink. As soon as she was within reach she thrust her arms out. Yuuri grabbed her under her arms and lifted her up. With all the grace and beauty Viktor was used to, Yuuri spun in a slow circle, the girl laughing, before he set her back on the ice to skate to the far wall.

As the next girl began to skate towards Yuuri, the sound of the rink doors behind Viktor made him turn. The first of the parents had arrived to collect their children, and one mother smiled at him when she met his eye.   
  
“Mr Katsuki-Nikiforov, you decided to join the class?” she joked as she leaned on the rink wall beside him.   
  
Viktor laughed. “I’ve told you, Ms Orlova, you don’t need to call me that.”  
  
The blonde tucked an escaped lock of hair back over her ear. “And I’ve told you the same.”  
  
“I’m sure one day we’ll both get it right,” Viktor replied as he returned his attention back to the rink. Yuuri was halfway through the line of children, encouraging the next to skate forward. The boy, small for his age and nervous, shook his head. But the boy behind him shoved him forward and he struggled to stay upright.   
  
“It’s okay, Andrei!” Yuuri called. “You can do it!”  
  
Andrei made his way slowly towards his teacher. Viktor recalled that he was new to Yuuri’s class – new to the area – and painfully shy. He glanced over briefly to the parents that had congregated to see if his father was there. He was; a tall and forbidding-looking man who was chewing on his knuckle, brow creased with worry.  
_Yuuri’s so good with the kids,_ he thought, looking back to see Andrei finally get close enough for Yuuri to pick up. He was more gentle with the spin than he had been for the others, and deposited Andrei back to the ice carefully. Andrei giggled, hands to his face to muffle the sound, and looked up at Yuuri. He shifted his hands long enough to say, “Thank you, Yuuri-sensei.” And then, bright red, he skated as quickly as he could to the growing collection of children who had already had their turn.

_This is what he was meant for, I’m sure._ Viktor couldn’t keep the smile off his face as Yuuri caught the next boy and spun him in the same gentle mock-lift. _He might be a two-time gold medal winning figure skater, but he was born to teach_.

He’d been watching Yuuri teach for years now. He’d only retired from skating the previous year on the back of his second gold medal win – they both had, one after the other to the tears of many distraught fans. But Yuuri had been teaching privately since moving to Saint Petersburg four years ago. It had started without any intention, but before they knew it Yuuri had been teaching a small class of teenagers the ins and outs of skating at the small, out of the way rink near their apartment. Since retiring and beginning teaching publicly, he’d been able to accept more people, and now, only two months in, he had five full classes of children ranging from four to fourteen, all desperate to learn from an international champion. He’d had to stop the previous secret class, but two of the teenagers had gone on to compete at the international level. And at the last women’s Grand Prix finals, one of them had won gold. _Definitely born to teach_ , Viktor thought.

Yuuri was at the end of the line of children now, with the last one skating towards him at top speed. But instead of skating into his waiting arms, the girl jumped as soon as she got close enough. Viktor inhaled sharply, eyes widening as the girl flew towards Yuuri. But without hesitating, Yuuri caught and spun her, although he whispered something in her ear as he put her down.

She joined the waiting group of children. Yuuri skated over to them, giving them a slightly over-the-top shrug. “That’s it for today.”  
  
The chorus of denial was long and loud. Some of them grabbed at his jacket and hung onto him with all their might. “Yuuri-sensei, not yet!” one of them cried.   
  
“I know you want to stay, but I’ll see you all next week, okay?”  
  
Some of the parents called out, “Come on, it’s time to go now!”  
  
With a great moan of dismay, the group made their way over to the side of the rink. Yuuri watched them go with a smile – until one of them tugged on his sleeve. Viktor watched as Andrei whispered something to Yuuri, who smiled and took his hand. The pair skated slowly across the rink towards his father. Instead of letting Andrei go through the exit, Yuuri picked him up and sat him on the rink wall. They were close enough for Viktor to hear the conversation Yuuri started up with the boy’s father.  
  
“Andrei did very well today,” he said, smiling at the boy. Andrei blushed and hid his face in his hands. His father ruffled his hair teasingly and said, “He’s always telling me how much he loves coming to class.”  
  
“Papa!” Andrei gasped. “No!”  
  
Yuuri laughed. “I love having you in class, Andrei. You’re learning so fast! You’ll be doing your own jumps and lifts in no time!”

The moment the realisation struck him, it was like every cliché in the book. Viktor felt like he’d been punched in the gut, hit by lightning, that the world had dropped away from him; all at once. It hit him without warning, without hesitation, and left him wondering why he’d never contemplated it before.

_I want to have a child with Yuuri_.

It was a few moments before he came back to himself. And when he did, he found that the parents around him had moved away, tending to their children, and Yuuri was in front of him with a soft smile on his face.  
  
“Vitya? You look a thousand miles away.”  
  
“I want to adopt a child with you.”  
  
Yuuri blinked. Viktor paused. There were probably better ways to have said it. That small, logical side of his brain was telling him he should have waited until they got home, until they were alone, that he shouldn’t have sprung it on him without any warning. But the more impulsive, daring side of him drowned it out as Yuuri stammered, “W-What?”  
  
“I want to adopt. A child. With you.” Viktor smiled.  
  
For the longest moment, Yuuri just stared. Viktor waited. And waited. Yuuri’s face flushed and he looked away.   
  
“I…I actually…”  
  
Viktor froze. This hadn’t been part of the plan. There hadn’t been a plan until about five minutes ago, but this was certainly not part of it. He started to speak, to tell him that it was okay, they could talk about it later when there weren’t people around – people who were starting to look over at them in curiosity and confusion. But Yuuri interrupted him.   
“I’ve actually been… uh… I’ve been wanting to… to talk to you about that… for a few weeks now.”  
  
Viktor frowned, not following. Yuuri looked back at him, biting his lip as he tried not to smile, the blush prominent across his face. “I’ve been thinking about it. Adoption. I… I want to.”  
  
Viktor swallowed hard. “You…”  
  
Yuuri smiled. He took Viktor’s head in his hands, fingers tangling in his hair. “I want to adopt. A child. With you.”  
  
And then he kissed him, and even though the rink wall was between them, Viktor melted against him, pulling him closer by his jacket. He was vaguely aware of the people nearby, of the myriad of reactions from happy parents to disgusted children. But he paid no attention. Yuuri had agreed, Yuuri was kissing him, and Viktor wasn’t sure he’d ever been happier in his life.

***

The post went up on Instagram at 10:42pm. Viktor had taken the selfie, of him and Yuuri and Makkachin curled up together on the couch. He hadn’t written a caption – it didn’t need one. The handwritten sign Yuuri was holding said it all.

_We’re adopting!*_

_*a kid. Not another dog._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the massive gap between this and the last chapter! Updates shouldn't be like this in the future.

From that night on, everything moved in a whirlwind.

Congratulations and excitement poured in from the moment the initial announcement post went up. Skating fans cried, screamed, left masses of congratulatory comments. All at once, their friends called, texted, Skyped. Chris sent them a short ‘good luck’ text with a winking emoji. Phichit cried during his video call when Yuuri told him he was going to be an uncle. Mila refused to stop referring to herself as Aunty Mila in every conversation. Yuri told them he didn’t care, but the smile he’d tried his best to hide had said differently. JJ posted a picture to Instagram of Isabella’s pregnant belly with the caption _Just saw v.katsuki-nikiforov and yuuri-kn are having a kid! Must be jealous! Jokes, congrats to the new family_.

The only people they told personally were their parents. The call to Japan had been nerve-wracking, and when his mother answered, Yuuri stumbled and stammered and forgot how to speak. It had been up to Viktor to give the family the news. There had been tears, laughter, and Mari had told them in no uncertain terms that she wanted to meet her new niece or nephew as soon as possible. The call to Viktor’s mother had gone more smoothly, although she’d laughed when Viktor started crying and told him she was excited for a grandchild, _finally_.

And then the work began. There were so many things that needed to be talked about, to be done. Yuuri’s career, Viktor’s career, the logistics of adoption, money – it seemed endless. Decisions were made; over coffee, after classes, whilst walking Makkachin, late at night when they curled up in bed in each other’s arms and whispered about how excited they were.

Yuuri would keep teaching his classes. Viktor didn’t want to take that away from him. Yuuri had insisted he could cut back, but Viktor refused. He was retired as well, and while he’d been considering coaching as a second career, the decision to stay home was an easy one to make.

On the subject of home, the search for a new one began in earnest. They couldn’t raise a child in Viktor’s former bachelor pad. Sometimes Yuuri woke in the early hours of the morning, not to the usual sound of Viktor watching dog videos on Youtube, but rather the rustle of him searching through newspapers, or the glare of his laptop as he trawled online ads.

Inquiries were made to all the necessary government officials. Paperwork was given in return. Stacks and stacks of paperwork, that Yuuri would come home from class to find Viktor slouched over, half-asleep and still trying to complete. The sale came through on a new apartment, and there was more paperwork. Meetings were had. Visits were made. The old apartment was sold and things were moved. Viktor, used to barely sleeping, was hardly more than a walking zombie most days, and Yuuri, dealing with his chronically-undersleeping husband, wasn’t much better.

And then the call came.

***

Yuuri slung his bag over his shoulder with a sigh of relief. His last class for the week, over. As much as he loved the kids, by the end of class he was always exhausted. He glanced at his phone to check the time – 5pm. _Should I call Viktor, see if he wants me to bring some food home?_ He decided to try as he left the rink, but the call rang out as he stepped outside, the doors swinging shut behind him. _He’ll be asleep. I hope he is._ He shoved his phone in his pocket but he hadn’t even made it down the front steps when it started to ring.

Out of habit, he checked the caller ID. _It’s probably Viktor, calling me back_. But it wasn’t Viktor’s name that flashed up on his screen, but _Mrs. Petya Lazareva._ For a moment, Yuuri’s sleep-deprived brain didn’t recognise the name. He blinked, stared. And then it hit him.

He hurriedly answered the call. “Hello, Mrs Lazareva!” he said. “It’s good to hear from you!”

His Russian, even after four years, still wasn’t perfect, but it was capable of getting him through most situations. On the other end of the phone, Petya said warmly, “And from you too, Mr. Katsuki-Nikiforov. Do you have a moment?”  
  
“Y-Yes.” He sat down heavily on the steps, his bag falling from his shoulder, his heart beating a mile a minute. They’d spent countless hours in Lazareva’s office over the past months. She’d gotten to know them intimately, gaining an in-depth view of their lives in order to make very important decision. And perhaps the time for that decision had finally come.   
  
“Is your husband with you?”  
  
“He’s not right now.”  
  
“I have some important news for the two of you. Perhaps you could come by the office tomorrow so we can sit down and talk?” Petya said. Yuuri searched for anything in her voice – any inflection, any hint of betraying emotion. But she masked herself well and he found nothing. He bit his lip. “Of course. Absolutely. When?”  
  
“I have an appointment free at eleven o’clock if that works for you?”  
  
“We’ll be there.”

They said goodbye and Yuuri hung up. He wasn’t sure how long he sat there on the step, a million thoughts running through his mind. _Important news. What does that mean? Is it good? Are we finally getting an answer? Is this it? What else could the news be? Surely if it were anything else she could say it over the phone. This_ has _to be it._ A gentle hand on his shoulder startled him out of his reverie.   
  
“Yuuri!”  
  
He looked up to see Karina, one of the co-owners of the rink. She pushed long, dark brown hair away from her eyes as she said again, “Yuuri, are you alright?”  
  
“I…”  
  
“I just saw you sitting out here, staring at your phone. Is everything okay?”  
  
He stared at her blankly. _Is everything okay?_ , he asked himself.

_Tomorrow, I’m going to find out if we’re allowed to fulfil our dreams._

He stood up abruptly and grabbed Karina by the shoulders. “I don’t know. Maybe? I hope so.”  
  
“What are you talking about?”  
  
“Mrs Lazareva just called.”  
  
Karina’s eyes lit up with recognition at the name. “What did she say? Good news? Bad?”  
  
Yuuri shook his head. “I don’t know. I don’t know. We’re meeting her tomorrow…” he trailed off. _I’m forgetting something._ His eyes widened as it came to mind in a flash.   
  
“Viktor!” he shouted. Karina flinched at the sudden volume. Yuuri let go of her, patted her shoulder. “I have to go tell Viktor. I have to tell Viktor!”  
  
With a smile, Karina pushed him away. “Go on then!”

He didn’t waste another second. He grabbed his bag and raced down the steps. Behind him, he heard Karina shout, “Good luck!”  
He turned briefly to wave, but didn’t stop running. He didn’t stop running for the next five minutes, only slowing down to push through the occasional group of people on the sidewalk. He didn’t stop when he reached their new apartment building and shoved inside without a second thought. He only stopped when he went crashing into the lift, but even then he bounced on the balls of his feet, worrying his lip between his teeth. As soon as the doors opened, he dashed out and down the hallway.

He searched hurriedly through his bag for his keys with one hand, banging on the apartment door with the other. By the time he fished them out, Viktor hadn’t come, so he jammed the keys in the lock and pushed his way inside.

“Viktor!”  
  
The small snort of a cut-off snore focused his attention on the couch. Viktor was sprawled out, one leg dangling over the edge, long shadows cast over him from the low sunset light, Makkachin sleeping on the floor beside him. Yuuri was sure Viktor would have looked as beautiful as usual – if he wasn’t currently lifting his head at an awkward angle, hair messy, and staring at him with an exhausted, slightly accusatory squint.   
  
“Yuuri?”  
  
Yuuri covered his smile with his hand. Viktor pouted and threw his head back dramatically over the arm of the couch, hand over his face. “Making fun of someone after you’ve cruelly woken them up. Sometimes I think I don’t know you at all, _luchik_.”  
  
Yuuri laughed. But then the reason why he’d come running in shouting came back to him. He walked over to Viktor and knelt down beside him. Makkachin whined and lifted his head to rest on his lap. Viktor peeked at him from under his palm.  
  
“Is something wrong?” he asked.  
  
Yuuri grabbed his hand and pulled it away so he could interlock their fingers. Their wedding rings touched, a soft clink before he said, “Mrs Lazareva just called me.”  
  
Viktor’s eyes widened. He sat up quickly, surprising Makkachin. He took hold of Yuuri’s other hand and held them both tightly. “What did she say?”  
  
“We’re going to meet her tomorrow morning at eleven. She has some important news to tell us.”  
  
In the low light, Viktor’s eyes seemed to shine. “She’s made a decision.”  
  
Yuuri smiled. “That’s what it sounds like.”  
  
“Did she give anything away? Anything at all? Did it sound like good news? Do you think we’ve been accepted? What if we haven’t been accepted? What if we have been? What if –”  
  
Yuuri wrestled one hand free and pressed a finger to Viktor’s lips. “I don’t know. She didn’t give away a thing.”  
  
“So we’ll find out tomorrow.” Viktor’s tone dropped. His anxious expression fell away, replaced by a calm resignation Yuuri hadn’t seen in a long time.   
  
“We’ll find out tomorrow.”

***

Eleven o’clock in the morning found them sat in the almost-empty waiting room at Petya Lazareva’s office. Four times Yuuri stopped himself from jiggling his leg. By the fifth time he caught himself doing it, he no longer cared enough to stop. Beside him, Viktor hadn’t moved for the entire twenty minutes they’d already been waiting. His crushing grip on Yuuri’s hand grounded both of them as the minutes ticked by. The incessant keyboard tapping of the young secretary drilled into Yuuri’s subconscious, giving him something to focus on other than the terrifying thought that everything they’d done had been for nothing.

They could always apply again. Work harder, do better, and apply again. But he wasn’t sure he could take the devastating blow it would be to hear that they’d been denied. He wasn’t sure Viktor could take it. He glanced over at him. His silver hair hid his eyes, but Yuuri could see the tense line of his jaw where he was clenching his teeth. He rubbed his thumb across the back of Viktor’s hand, ready to say something he hoped would be comforting, but then the secretary’s phone rang and he nearly jumped out of his skin.

He watched her as she picked up the call. It lasted only a few seconds. “Yes, ma’am,” she said, and then hung up. She met Yuuri’s gaze with a smile and said cheerfully, “Mrs Lazareva can see you now.”

Yuuri shot out of his seat, heading for the office door across from them. But his arm jerked back, kept in place by Viktor’s death grip on his hand, and he turned to look at him.

Viktor’s mood had become sombre and quiet after their talk the night before. Throughout the night he’d kept himself apart from Yuuri, and couldn’t even look at him in the morning. Yuuri had tried to talk to him, tried to get him to open up, but Viktor had only pushed him away more. Now, staring into Viktor’s wide, searching eyes, he realised why.  
  
_He’s already made up his mind about what she’s going to say. He thinks he knows and he’s scared._  
  
“Vitya.” He pulled Viktor to his feet forcefully and into a hug. Viktor froze for a moment, but then melted into the embrace. Quietly, so the secretary didn’t hear, Yuuri whispered, “We don’t know anything yet. Let’s go find out.”  
  
When he pulled back, Viktor was smiling. It was small and soft, but it was a smile, and that was all Yuuri wanted. Still gripping his hand, Yuuri pushed open the door to the office and stepped inside.

The room was small, but warm and comfortable. Enough furniture to feel cosy and inviting – bookshelves along one wall, the contents stacked haphazardly; the large desk with two empty chairs in front waiting for them – but not too much to feel cluttered. Seated behind the desk, a diminutive woman, her back a little hunched and greying hair tied back in a bun, nodded at them serenely.  
  
“Come, sit down,” she said, gesturing to the empty seats.   
  
They sat, hands still joined in the space between them. Yuuri glanced between Viktor and Petya. In the few seconds it had taken to get from the waiting room to the office, Viktor had forced himself into a calm persona, complete with false smile and relaxed posture. Every inch of him was faking it, and all Yuuri could do was rub his thumb across his hand and hope he’d be okay. Petya, on the other hand, truly did seem calm. She pushed her glasses further up her nose and looked down at the papers in front of her.   
  
“Now, it’s been quite the journey for you, hasn’t it?” She flicked her piercing gaze from Yuuri to Viktor and back again, raising one eyebrow.   
  
“It has,” Yuuri replied.   
  
“You have some news?” Viktor asked. His voice was light and airy, but there was a certain heaviness behind his words that escaped no one.  
  
“Yes. There’s no reason to beat around the bush, as it were.” Petya collected the papers up, tapped them on the desk, and set them back down. She fixed the pair of them with a long, penetrating stare. Yuuri bit his lip.

Petya broke out into a smile. “Congratulations. Your application to adopt has been accepted.”

The words didn’t sink in at first. Yuuri blinked, stared, processed the information. _Accepted_. He looked at Viktor. He was staring straight ahead blankly, his face lax. Slowly, he turned to face Yuuri. Their eyes met, and finally, in that moment, it clicked.

They both shot out of their seats and into an embrace. Yuuri couldn’t stop grinning even as he crushed his face into Viktor’s shoulder. He laughed. Tears started to well up but he forced them back. Viktor’s arms were tight around him, holding on for all he was worth. Yuuri pushed him back – he needed to see his face. As soon as he did, he couldn’t hold back his tears anymore. Viktor was smiling, ecstatic, even as tears tracked down his own face. He tried to wipe Viktor’s away, but his own blurred his vision and he had to take his glasses off to scrub them away.

It was a long few minutes before they could sit down again and focus. The sleeves of Yuuri’s sweater were soaked from mopping up two sets of joyous tears, and even when he jammed his glasses back on he could barely see Petya as she pushed a stack of papers towards them.   
  
“Here,” she said, smiling warmly. “These are the children in the Saint Petersburg area that match what you’re looking for. Have a look through these and if you make a decision,   
  
let me know and I’ll set up a meeting.”  
  
Viktor took the papers, crushing them to his chest. “Thank you,” he said, and finally he sounded genuine.

They both stood. Yuuri grabbed Viktor’s arm for support, but Viktor pushed it aside in favour of wrapping his arm around his shoulders.  
  
“I wish you well,” Petya said as they made their way towards the door.   
  
Yuuri gave her a small wave as they left. It was the last thing he remembered before they were on the street outside the building, his breath puffing out in clouds, Viktor warm and close beside him.   
  
“Vitya.” He looked up at him. “We did it. We’re going to be parents.”  
  
He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen Viktor so happy. He pressed a kiss to Yuuri’s forehead and then rested against him, grinning. “Our child is in here, somewhere.” He rustled the papers pressed against his chest.   
  
Yuuri smiled. “I can’t wait to find them.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for all the love, guys! I hope you all like the latest update :D

It was harder than they thought. They hadn’t thought it was going to be easy, but days later, they were hunched over the coffee table, papers strewn about, still no closer to making a decision. Yuuri, cross-legged on the floor, stretched his arms above his head with a yawn. 

“It’s getting late,” he said quietly, scratching Makkachin’s ears. The poodle rested his head in Yuuri’s lap with a contented huff. “We can come back to it in the morning.”

Across from him, on the couch, Viktor scrubbed a hand over his face. When Yuuri met his gaze, all he could see was worry and exhaustion. He smiled, started to speak, but Viktor beat him to it. 

“There are so many of them.”

Yuuri’s smile faded a little. “I know.”

Viktor was quiet for a moment. Then, “Just a few more?”

With a sigh, Yuuri nodded. “Okay.”

The silence stretched on as they continued to sort through the multitude of children looking to be adopted. Yuuri shot Viktor a few glances as they worked, but he didn’t seem to notice. He was too focused on social workers’ comments and children’s histories. But finally, as Yuuri picked up yet another file, Viktor said, “I don’t know how to be a parent.”

The sheer absurdity of his comment, the out-of-the-blue timing of it, made Yuuri laugh. Viktor looked up at him, pouting. Shaking his head, Yuuri said, “Neither do I, Vitya.”

Viktor sighed and leaned back into the couch. “You know what I mean.”

Yuuri propped his head up on one hand. “I’m not sure I do.”

He was quiet for a long moment. Eyes downcast, he finally said, “I never had a ‘family’. I had my mother, of course, but I’ve never really been around children. No siblings, no cousins, no friends with little brothers or sisters.” He looked up. “I don’t know what to do.”

Yuuri smiled softly. “I didn’t have a lot to do with kids either. At least, not until the triplets were born.”

Viktor pouted again. “Then how are you so good with the children that you teach?”

With a laugh, Yuuri pushed himself up. Makkachin moved to lay on Viktor’s feet as Yuuri dropped down on the couch beside his husband. Curling up into his side, he asked, “Are you going to love this child?” He gestured vaguely to the messy coffee table. Viktor frowned. “Of course.”

“Then you’ll be good with them.”

The sound of rustling paper drew their attention. From his position folded into Viktor’s side, he couldn’t see what was going on, but Viktor called out in surprise, “Makkachin! Stop that!” He leaned down and took something from him. Makkachin whined.

“What is it?” Yuuri asked.

“He was chewing on one of the files,” Viktor said, although it was exasperation in his voice rather than anger. He handed it over to Yuuri.

As soon as he laid eyes on the (slightly-soggy) photo of the boy at the top of the page, Yuuri stopped. The bright blue of the boy’s eyes reminded him so much of Viktor, and there was something there, something in the shyness of his gaze, that reminded Yuuri of himself. He read through the social worker’s comments. Shy. Quiet. Enthusiastic when he opened up. The more he read, the more the idea cemented in his mind. 

“Viktor.”

“Hmm?”

He passed the papers back. Yuuri watched as Viktor read through the file, studied the photo, and then glanced over at him. The look they shared was enough. Viktor grinned, and Yuuri laughed.

“I’ll call Lazareva in the morning?” he asked, but Viktor didn’t answer with words – he tangled his fingers in Yuuri’s hair, drew him close, and, still grinning, kissed him for all he was worth.

 

***

 

There was something disquieting and uncomforting about calling it an orphanage, Viktor had decided. So as they ascended the steps to the front door, he ran through possible alternatives in his mind.

_Institution. No, that’s worse. Shelter? That makes it sound like we’re adopting a dog._

The door swung open before Yuuri had the chance to knock. A plump, pleasant-looking woman beamed at them. “You must be the Katsuki-Nikiforovs. Please, come in.”

_Orphanage it is, then._

The building itself was fairly small, the corridors tight and the doorways narrow. Viktor didn’t have the chance for anything more than a passing glance as they were whisked down a hallway and ushered into a small room. It was well-furnished, with a table and chairs the main focus point in the centre. The woman gestured for them to sit, smiling widely at the pair as they did so.

“I’m sure you’re both very excited,” she said. Her smile didn’t diminish an inch as she put her hands on her hips and continued cheerfully, “But there are ground rules I have to cover. Okay?”

Viktor smiled without quite meaning to. With her joyful demeanour, red-cheeked round face, freckled nose, and kind eyes, she was the type of person who put people at ease. He glanced over at Yuuri, who met his gaze with a smile of his own. He reached out to take his hand, squeezing it tightly, before returning his attention to the chattering woman across the table from them.

“My name’s Lilya Chalaya, but that’s Miss Chalaya to you. I’ll go upstairs in a moment and fetch our hopeful adoptee, but first of all, I need to make you aware of a few things. I’m going to remain in the room to supervise, of course. If at any point he starts to feel uncomfortable, I’ll be ending the meeting immediately. I won’t be having anyone hurting these kids on my watch.” She laughed. “Of course, I’m not anticipating any problems. He’s very excited to meet you. I’m sure you’re already aware, but he is a very shy child, so he may take a little time to warm up to you. But believe me, he’s very excited.” She tugged on the loose plait that fell over her shoulder. “I’ll go fetch him now.”

She left the room quickly, leaving Viktor and Yuuri alone. Viktor looked over at him with a raised eyebrow, and Yuuri laughed softly.   
  
“She’s certainly enthusiastic. I like her,” he said.  
  
“So do I.” Viktor tightened his grip on Yuuri’s hand for a moment. Yuuri rubbed his thumb over the side of his hand comfortingly. “Are you nervous?”  
  
Viktor huffed out a laugh. “Of course I am. I don’t think I’ve been this nervous since my junior debut. You seem to be taking it more easily though.”  
  
Yuuri shook his head. “Definitely not. I think I’ve just gotten used to living with an overwhelming sense of anxiety recently.”  
  
Viktor started to respond, but was cut off by Lilya bustling into the room, a small child gripping her hand tightly. She shut the door behind them and then, free hand on her hip, said brightly, “This is Anton.”

Viktor only knew a few things about him. Outside of being shy and quiet, he was also small for his age and very cautious. Both attributes were very clear. It was difficult to see the seven-year-old over the table - only his shoulders and head were visible. And as Lilya directed him to sit in the chair opposite them, he looked between both prospective parents rapidly, sizing them up as quickly as he could.   
  
“Anton, these are the Katsuki-Nikiforovs,” Lilya said as she sat at the head of the table. “Why don’t you have a chat with them?”  
  
Viktor could see that, simultaneously, it was the absolute last thing Anton wanted to do, and yet there were questions it was clear he was burning to ask. He sucked on his bottom lip and looked down at the table, deep brown fringe hiding his face.  
  
“It’s okay, Anton, you don’t have to talk if you don’t want to,” Yuuri said with a soft smile. “My name’s Yuuri, and this is Viktor.” He paused, giving Anton an opening to speak. But the boy didn’t take it, so Yuuri continued. “Would you like to know a little bit about us?”  
  
Anton nodded, but still didn’t look up. So Yuuri started to ramble; simple, mundane things that were easy to concentrate on. Viktor recognised the signs from so many years of calming Yuuri’s anxiety.

He watched Anton as Yuuri talked. The boy kept his hands bunched in his sweatshirt and firmly in his lap. His shoulders were tense, but there was a nervous energy to him. He wondered if this was what Yuuri had been like as a child. He’d heard dozens of stories over the years from the Katsuki family about his childhood, about how his anxiety had made it difficult for him to speak to people outside of the family at times, about how he’d clung to the few friends he’d managed to make for fear of losing them. Watching Anton shift in his seat nervously, Viktor couldn’t help but think that he was looking at a younger Yuuri.

“Oh, and we have a dog. Do you like dogs, Anton?” Yuuri asked.  
  
The boy’s head shot up immediately, bright eyes wide and lips curving upwards just a little. He seemed to catch himself and look away again quickly, but he still glanced up at Yuuri when he nodded.  
  
Yuuri smiled. “His name’s Makkachin. He’s a poodle, and he’s a little bit old, but he’s still going strong.”  
  
Anton mouthed the name silently to himself. He looked between the pair of them again, eyes darting from Viktor to Yuuri and back again, before returning to stare at the table.  
  
“I’m sure you have some questions, Anton,” Lilya said cheerfully, making Viktor jump. He’d forgotten the woman was there. She touched Anton’s arm gently. “Go on.”  
  
The panic returned to his face. Biting his lip, he gestured for Lilya to come closer. Viktor didn’t hear what he whispered in her ear, but Lilya replied with a laugh and said, “Oh, I’m sure they won’t mind. No such thing as a silly question!”  
  
Anton swallowed hard. He couldn’t lift his gaze from the table as he stammered, “W-W-Why… why is your name so long?”  
  
Viktor had to pause for a moment to process the question. When it clicked, he chuckled. “You mean Katsuki-Nikiforov?”  
  
Anton nodded meekly. Viktor smiled and tried to meet his gaze. “Well, when Yuuri and I got married, we couldn’t decide which last name we wanted to keep. So we kept both of them. My last name used to be Nikiforov, and his was Katsuki.” He gestured to Yuuri as he spoke.   
  
Anton tilted his head, a look of confusion spreading across his face. Viktor wondered how he was supposed to explain further when the boy said, “I think… I think I’ve heard those names before?”  
  
Lilya frowned at Viktor. He could almost see the gears working in her head, trying to figure out if she was supposed to know the names too. Yuuri smiled. “Have you ever watched ice skating competitions?”  
  
Anton nodded. “Miss Amelina… she watches them sometimes. I was allowed to watch some with her, because I like roller skating and she said it was almost the same.”  
  
“Miss Amelina is one of the other carers,” Lilya explained.  
  
Yuuri leaned forward a little across the table. “That might be where you’ve heard the names. Viktor and I used to compete.”  
  
Anton’s eyes widened. “Really!? And you were on TV and everything!?”  
  
With a laugh, Yuuri nodded. “We were. We’re retired now, but we competed for a long time.”  
  
“You like roller skating?” Viktor asked, resting his chin in the palm of his hand.  
  
Anton looked to him and nodded. “I used to do it a lot, but… when I came here, I had to stop.” He bit his lip and looked away.   
  
What little the file had said was that Anton had been orphaned at five; his father missing from the birth certificate and his mother lost to a car accident. Judging by his reaction, it was still something fresh in his mind, so Viktor tried to veer away from the subject. “Yuuri teaches kids how to skate now, but neither of us have ever been roller skating. Maybe we could teach each other?”

As Yuuri took his hand and squeezed it, Anton smiled shyly at them, and Viktor was certain he’d just fallen head over heels in love.

**Author's Note:**

> A great big thanks to agape-rose for beta'ing this! 
> 
> And thank you to ironic-comicsans for helping beta the first chapter.
> 
> And this story would not be written at all without the beautiful, darling ravenhunterfell! 
> 
> Go follow all of them on tumblr, they're all fab people and I love them very much


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